The Freezer Effect
by NothingVentured
Summary: Somewhere between the dead turian outside my house and the 2 krogan who shoved me in the air duct, 170 years passed. Now, I'm in Mass Effect and there is no going back. Can I help Shepard save a world I should never have experienced, or will I just get us all killed? Self Insert. T for language.
1. Freezer Burn

_**Chapter 1: Freezer Burn**_

I was in pain.

But not a sharp, biting pain or a dull, throbbing one. This was a hesitant one—like it was screaming at me from some great distance. Why was I in pain? My mind was slow to respond, sluggish. I grew frustrated and then slightly panicked. I should know something. There was something important to remember about the pain. But what?

And then it grew closer—the little screams—like wind was quickly sweeping away the fog. My insulation from the hurt was leaving. Everything seared. It felt like my skin and muscle were being pinched off everywhere at once, all the way through to my bones—or like there were little bugs eating me from the inside.

After a moment, I realized that I was moving. It wasn't much, just a gentle swaying from side to side. And I was on my stomach, the swaying pulling roughly at my tender skin. I was being carried over someone's shoulder. Who was carrying me? Just as this occurred to me, we stopped. There was a clanging metal sound followed by some strange growling and grunting sound. What the hell was that? I needed to wake up and open my eyes. I needed to figure out what was going on. I couldn't remember anything. My vision finally began to clear and I realized that I was being put inside of something, and not gently. I was being stuffed in something loud and metallic. It popped under my weight, the sound echoing loudly.

It was an air duct.

The grunting became more urgent as the scene's details came crashing down on me. I was in some dark air duct, the artificial wind whipping my long, loose hair. I could barely move, my limbs sluggish but rapidly recovering. And the growling was coming from the 2 krogan just outside.

Krogan!

I think it was supposed to be a scream, but all that came out of my mouth was a sort of choked gurgling sound. One of them hefted a shotgun as I attempted to claw my way up the duct out of their sight. I forgot how loud guns were. The shot ripped through the air and then my left foot. It still worked, though, so I must have only gotten caught by the edge of the pattern. With more clanging, I saw the barrel being shoved roughly in after me, but the krogan's hump wouldn't let it see inside. He began to pull the trigger, firing half a dozen shells into the sides of the duct indiscriminately. If he hadn't been such a horrible shot, I'd have been in real trouble. There was more grunting and growling from down there and I did my best to stay still. They couldn't look in here, so if I stayed quiet, maybe they would leave.

Luckily, after just a few minutes I heard the metal grate being replaced and the heavy thud of footsteps. I sighed in relief and let out a small whimper I'd been holding back. I'd been shot in the leg by a krogan. I was somehow in Mass Effect—or Mass Effect was here, I wasn't sure which—and I don't remember how it got that way.

I needed to think. I had been sitting at home, about to fall asleep on my husband's lap while he watched Survivorman or some such thing. But something happened. Something big. What was it? I needed a clue of some sort. Okay, well I was wearing…was this my PT uniform? I blinked in surprise. That memory was 2 weeks before drill. Why would I be in my Army stuff?

I suddenly felt my heart drop into my stomach. A space pod crashed. It crashed in the field next to my apartment while I was on my way to work. There had been somebody inside and I tried to get them out, but they were long dead. I had cut my hand on the pod and got sick from exposure to the dead body. That's what the Army doctors had said when they quarantined me. And a week later I—

Suddenly, I heaved, convulsing and vomiting there in the air duct. Oh God, I had died! Then how? How did I get here? Was this just the future, or another place entirely? And what was I supposed to do now?

Get moving.

My husband's voice broke through into my mind, refocusing it. I had to go. They knew where I was, and as long as they knew that they could shoot me again—could kill me again. Then an injured foot and an uncertain plan of action would be the least of my worries. I didn't have to find somewhere _familiar_ or even somewhere _safe_, I just had to get somewhere _else_ and stay hidden.

I began to slide down the duct, staying as quiet as possible. It didn't support my weight very well, so it was slow going, but it gave me time to think. If I wanted to stay hidden then I needed new clothes and some medigel. Money and a weapon wouldn't hurt either, but I was less inclined to steal those.

Soon, I began to hear the pulsing music of a club. Damn, this duct was loud though, even with some cover sound. I needed to get out of it soon. I lucked out, though, as I came up to the next duct exit. It was some kind of dressing room, probably for the club's strippers. It had clothes, a medical station on the wall, and, for the time being, it was empty. The grate was screwed into the wall, but through a careful use of my dogtags, I managed to get it undone quietly. At one point, a couple of asari stumbled out of a bedroom nearby and, judging by how loud the music got when they opened the door, in to the club. I froze at that point, but they were probably too drunk to have noticed me anyway.

When the grate finally came loose, I cleared the room they'd just come out of as an escape route and put the cover back in place. The room was full of stuff, from costumes to romance novels but it was all surprisingly organized. The skimpy pink outfits were hung up neatly in lockers with names on them, though about a third had been replaced with more everyday outfits. I was reluctant to take those but some had spare clothes folded above them, so that was a possibility.

I snuck immediately to the medical station and grabbed a syringe. It said to inject the gel as close to the wound as possible so I reluctantly stuck it in my calf and released a breath as relief flooded to the wounds. It would probably be a while yet before I'd be walking without a limp, but for now, this was good enough.

It wasn't until I started rifling carefully through the drawers of the make-up stand that I saw it. It had a pale, wide-eyed face with dark black marks criss-crossing it. They almost looked like turian marks, but it wasn't a turian—it was me.

My heart started to beat again as I realized that it was just the mirror on the back of the make-up counter that had scared me. Still, those black marks were strange. They weren't tattoos or anything, were they? I fingered them lightly. 2 thin strips went from the middle of my forehead down to the tip of my nose where they tapered off. Branching off of these were thicker lines that traced across my cheekbones and up just outside of my eyes, coming to an artful curl a little shy of the ends of my eyebrows. I really hoped that it was just paint, but I couldn't even feel it. Still, I had to cover it up. Whatever else it was, it was unusual and would draw attention to me. Luckily, the make up here was good and, although it took a while to find the right shade among a mix of blues, it covered up the black marks like they had never existed. I kept the little container.

After that much time wasted, I knew that I had to move fast. I searched through the drawers, finding a scattering of small electronic devices that looked like they'd fit in my ears. I took one of these too, hoping that it was a translator.

Feeling guilty, I pilfered a pair of olive drab cargo pants that just barely fit over my…excessive rear… and a black ¾ sleeve t-shirt. Suddenly, I was glad for all that weight I'd lost being sick that week. I was lacking a bit of the muscle that I was used to, but these skin-tight clothes wouldn't have fit me otherwise. I was still a little chubby yet, but my shortness left me a little wiggle room. I also took the black boots that had been left in the bottom of another locker, which looked to be about the right size and marveled at how good my injured foot felt already.

But I was out of time. I'd been here far too long already. Shoving the makeup in my leg pocket and the metal piece in my ear, I snuck out into the club. I was in a lower hallway that circled a main level where bartenders were serving and lights were flashing. It was Afterlife. Damn. Omega was not a place you wanted to be unarmed. I made my way up there and pushed through the crowds, relieved when I heard words I recognized. So that thing was a translator. That was one less thing to worry about.

Now I had to find out what to do from here I needed food and a place to bed down. To get those things, I would need a job. It would probably be best to head to the markets. There had to be someone hiring there. A restaurant would have food, which would be good because I hadn't eaten anything since the day before I died. But I would rather not work there right after I had just gotten done being sick, though I felt much better now. I should look for a sales clerk position or something.

I slipped out of Afterlife, past a krogan bouncer, and down the hallway to the left. The music was bearable now, and I did my best to listen carefully to the conversations going on around me. The door on the right led to the markets, right?

"We put the girl in the air duct. She was up and kicking, but a couple of shots quieted her down. Blood can still spread that White Fever, right?"

I froze and tried to lean casually up against the low wall, pretending to wait for someone as I listened to the conversation behind me. Either the krogan didn't recognize me in new clothes and without the paint, or they just weren't paying attention, but I didn't want to show them my face and find out. From the brief glance I got, one of them was talking to his omni-tool. The voice that responded was quiet and I couldn't understand it, but it made him chuckle.

"I don't speak gibberish, salarian scum . As long as it wipes out those turians like you said it would, you'll get your son back. We spent a lot of credits on that human in her fancy antique cryo-pod. This had better pay off."

The conversation appeared to end then, because the krogan turned to each other. "Think we should have told him his son was fed to the varren yesterday for biting you?" They both laughed heartily. "Well, I'm off duty now and I have a little blue beauty to see to."

"You gonna go get turned down by the stripper again?" There was the thud of playful punches being exchanged, followed by a rumbling chuckle and then one of the krogan passed by me. The other one, the larger krogan with the green headplate headed the opposite direction, right to the markets I'd been headed to before.

So I was cryogenically frozen, I thought, tailing him from a good distance. That explained that part at least. Mass Effect was just the future. You know, a hundred and fifty some years in the future. And this idiot had bought me to spread a disease that only affected turians. Well, I prayed, let's hope I'm not still contagious.

As I followed a couple through the sliding door, I saw the krogan head toward the apartments. There weren't many people heading this way, but I kept my steps light and he didn't take notice of me. _Idiot…_ But he was walking toward an elevator. _Damn…I'll lose him_, I thought irritably. _Maybe he isn't as stupid as he pretends to be_. Just to be safe, I searched the median quickly, finding a short, jagged piece of metal in the garbage that littered it. It looked like it used to be part of some kind of locking mechanism on a crate. Whatever it was, it was all I would have, and I wasn't going to let this child-killing mass murderer get away from me. Shoving it in my pocket, I moved up to stand beside him and wait for the elevator.

He sized me up as the elevator settled and locked into place and I let him, until I saw that spark of recognition in his eyes. "Do I know you, hu—"

I drove the metal piece deep into his eye and twisted. He was strong bashing at me with his arm, but he was too slow to prevent the attack and I wasn't about to let go of my only weapon. I took the bone crunching hit and ripped the metal piece back and forth, doing my best to shred his brain. He screamed in rage and pain and charged forward into the elevator in an attempt to crush me against the wall. I tried to move out of the way, but he held me in a bear hug and I took the full force of his weight against me, breaking more than one rib. My only saving grace was that he also smashed his face into the wall, driving the metal piece deep into his skull. With a shudder, he collapsed, unconscious.

I gasped, slipping out from under him and trying to remember how to breathe. Holy crap, that hurt. But krogans regenerated. I had to make sure he was all the way dead. I pressed a random number on the elevator, coaxing the doors closed and then took his own shotgun to him. I'll spare you the details, but I can assure you, 100 percent, he was dead. I think I heaved a couple of times while searching his body, but there was nothing left to come up so I didn't worry about it too much. By the time I made it to the 26th floor, I had found everything I needed: a piece of cloth to wipe the blood off on, an omni-tool, a pistol, an omni-blade, 2 syringes of medigel, and a handful of credit chits. I was able to adjust the pistol holster to my belt, but with no way to carry the shotgun, save for in my hand suspiciously, I had to leave it behind.

After returning to the 6th floor (marked with a star for Afterlife), I walked quickly back toward the markets and found a dark corner to sit in while I fiddled with the orange hologram that was my new tool. I tried to memorize all the information I could, but when I found a reset function, I knew I had to do it. It would wipe all of the details, like owner and contact information off of it, meaning that I wouldn't have to answer calls from the krogan's boss or friends. Hopefully, they'd just think I pawned it. Weyrloc Drunn was finally gone. It even assigned me a new number when I requested it and I memorized that too.

I figured out the credit chits too. They didn't seem to be connected to any sort of account. They were just like a wallet that you put money into or took it out of. I transferred all of the credit to 2 of them. There was really quite a bit. He must have been planning a big purchase. 20,000 went into the chit that I discreetly tucked into my boot, but I put a 300 on the one that went into my pocket. That was going to go toward food. I was starving now and I barely had the energy to lift my arms.

I found a little place that was still open and, although the cook didn't look too happy, he made me a bowl of ramen. It wasn't my favorite food in the world, but I at least knew what it was. After watching the last 2 customers leave and stealing a look at their tip, I tried to give him a decent one before heading out. Strangely, spending the—let's face it—stolen chits didn't bother me. He wouldn't be using them anymore and besides, I still had to track down the salarian he was talking to. I would need resources to do so—to save a life. But not tonight.

Most places were closed now and I needed some sleep anyway so I found myself another air duct grate and slept in there. It was noisy and there was constantly wind whipping past me, but at least it was safe and hidden. Besides, my omni-tool said that it was pushing 2:00am. I could apartment and job hunt in the morning. Right now I was just so tired….

* * *

I slept for nearly 12 hours in that little duct and although my ribs felt much better thanks to the gel I gave myself before falling asleep, they were still very sore. I should avoid getting into too many fights.

I looked into apartments first, though it took several hours of scanning bulletin boards and hiking up stairs to finally find one of the landlords. He was a turian, who glared down at me suspiciously. "Well, look what we have here," he sneered. "A little human girl. Fresh from the colonies, I assume? Looks like you've been acclimatizing to Omega. Rough day?"

"I need an apartment," I said firmly. "A bed and a working shower."

He dropped the act, recognizing a paying customer when he saw one. I really didn't want to break into that big credit chit I had, but if I wanted a job, I figured I should make myself presentable or at least check my makeup. Besides, hanging onto looted money wasn't the best option either.

"Something simple and cheap then, huh?" I nodded curtly and he scratched his chin. "I might have something. Most people that come through here think they're too good for it, but if you aren't picky I might as well make some money off of it." He jerked his head, indicating that I should follow him, and led me further down the hall.

The place was a closet. Literally. The bed barely fit along the back wall and was little more than a mattress. The crushed frame beneath it had clearly had the legs broken off and the only thing supporting it was a set drawers. The floor was covered in something sticky and black and the toilet barely fit next to the cramped shower. After a moment, I spotted the sink which folded up into the wall. But still, it would do.

"Give me an hour to clean it up and it's yours for only 400 credits a month."

"Nuh-uh, these are the slums. The other apartments here—the real ones—go for 600. I'll give you 200 a month, max."

He scowled. "300."

I studied him with a scowl of my own. I didn't have much experience reading turians, but something told me he had a little give room left. "225."

He shook his head. Not that much give room then. But he wanted me as a tenant. Business must not be too good. I held up my credit chit and watched his eyes flicker to it. "I have 265 credits on this chip. Right here. Right now. The first month."

He hesitated, not really wanting to go that low, but eventually gave in, snatching it out of my hand. "I'll draw up a contract and clean it up a bit. Come back in a couple of hours and sign it. 265 a month." He handed me some sort of access card and stormed off and I tried not to smile behind his back. He didn't really seem all that ticked. He might have gone down to 250.

"Okay, check that off the list. Apartment 345." I checked the access card, just to make sure the turian hadn't pulled a fast one on me, but it worked fine. I did my best to memorize the location and put all of the details I could on the notes app on my omni-tool and then I headed down to the markets.

I froze on my way past the keeper's desk when I heard the name 'Shepard' on his radio. I really would like to know how long I had before Cerberus took over Omega. I hadn't played the 3rd game myself, so the details were fuzzy, but my husband had so I got the jist.

My heart tightened as I thought about him. _No. Not now. Control yourself. He'd expect you to at least do that_, I told myself.

I tried to keep the strain out of my voice as I pointed to the radio. "What's that about?"

My new landlord glanced up disinterestedly. "That Alliance guy, Shepard, died a few days ago. They're having his funeral on the Presidium right now. Damn humans. Think that just 'cause you saved the Citadel and the Counsel, now you deserve a parade," he spat, particularly strong disgust on his face at the mention of the interspecies group.

I relaxed a bit. It would be about 2 more years then before the shit really hit the fan. And now I knew that this Shepard was a paragon. That made me feel better. I leaned on the counter. "You know, Mardus," I told him, getting his name off the name plate there. "I really can't tell who you hate more: humans or the Counsel."

"The Counsel," he growled without skipping a beat. "Bunch of tight-assed, entitled cowards."

"You mean politicians?"

He cracked a smile. "You humans aren't much different, but at least you make yourselves useful once in a while."

"Someone has to be the cannon fodder. At least we have enthusiasm!" I told him with a wave. He laughed loudly at my retreating back, hopefully feeling better about his new tenant. But I had to get going. That salarian was going to be in trouble really soon, if he wasn't dead already.

I made my way through the many counters, pausing between an electronics repair shop and a tattoo place. I leaned casually against a wall to keep my back safe and opened my omni-tool. I went to the contacts section and put in the 10 digit code that I memorized as the last contacted number before I reset it. I entered it nervously. If this wasn't the salarian, then I'd be in trouble. Well, nothing for it. I pressed enter and waited.

Suddenly, I heard a little tone and the 2 salarians manning the electronics store right next to me stiffened. My eyes narrowed suspiciously as they exchanged looks, one scared and the other sympathetic.

"Answer it, Barra," the one with the orange and red-striped face ordered solemnly.

The second salarian with the black horns began to shake. "I—I can't! The turians haven't started getting sick yet! If I answer, they'll kill Rayalla!"

"He's been with the Blood Pack for a week. Ray is dead. Answer it."

Barra turned so that customers wouldn't see him cry and then he answered it. "H—hello?"

The voice came over my omni-tool and I sighed. "Barra, I'm sorry."

"Who is this?" I turned off my omni-tool and he blinked in surprise. "Hello?"

As I approached the counter, the orange-faced one moved to intercept me. "Welcome to Loren's Electronics Repair! I'm Loren. What can I do for you?"

Barra gasped as he spotted me. "You!"

"Barra, your son is dead," I told him, trying to keep my voice low and calm. Anxious speech attracted attention.

"B—but you were dying of White Fever! You had the turian paint on your face! How did you get it off?"

Loren grabbed him roughly by the shoulder, obviously thinking the same thing I was. I leaned forward and pointed at my omni-tool and the salarians moved closer, playing along. "I didn't get the paint off, Barra, I covered it up. Does it come off?"

"Maybe in a years' worth of showers," Loren answered matter-of-factly. "It isn't meant to come off of a turian's face and they don't have porous skin like humans. I can get you something to at least change the pattern so that you don't have to walk around with a plague warning on your face."

"A plague warning….Awesome sauce."

"What?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. Barra, I'm sorry. Your son was killed a few days ago for biting the krogan's boss."

"Rayalla…." he wimpered.

"You need to scram, Barra. If I don't end up infecting someone soon, they'll come after you. I've been feeling better since I woke up. I don't think I'm sick anymore and I may no longer be contagious."

He nodded, swallowing, and scanned me with his omni-tool. "I was a medic until the clinic closed. That's why they came to me. I'll be able to tell if you're still sick." There was a long pause as Loren and I pretended to examine my omni-tool and Barra studied his data. "Fever gone, white blood cells dropping, systems stabilizing. You're not sick. Possible cure from cryogenic freezing. Outlast virus."

"Outlast it?" I frowned.

"Yes. White Fever is capable of surviving extremely cold temperatures. While your cells were in stasis, the virus lived on. But without an active cell they had no way of reproducing. The virus can only survive 13 years without a host, so it died. At least, that's my theory. How long were you frozen?"

"A long time," I told him with a sigh. "At any rate, if I'm not spreading the Fever, then you need to run."

"The human is right, Barra. You need to get your family and get off of Omega."

He hesitated. "Thank you, Loren." With a little bow, the salarian scurried out from behind the counter. "And human, you need to update your immunizations and have your respiratory system examined for deficiencies. Find a salarian named Mordin and tell him that Barra is calling in a favor." And then he was gone.

Mordin. Crap. I didn't think he'd be here already. "You can find him in his lab in the Gozu District."

"He has a lab?"

"Oh yeah. I don't think he ever leaves. Well, sometimes he disappears for a few days, but he's usually there, though nobody knows exactly what he's doing. I can take you there after closing, if you like."


	2. Cold Feet

_**Chapter 2: Cold Feet**_

2 years later:

Mordin's checkup was a bit of a disappointment. I showed up, dropped Barra's name, and was promptly knocked out. 4 hours later, I woke up with a horrible pain in my chest. He handed me an immunization record, some pain killers, and a paste to put on the long scar on my chest. Only after demanding an explanation, did he finally mutter something about my lungs being deformed and having to be replaced. I'm pretty sure that he did a lung transplant, which made me a bit concerned about why he had human lungs on hand.

But after that I was shooed out and never saw his face again. I was a bit worried that the ever-talkative Mordin hardly said a word to me—he must have been extremely preoccupied with whatever he was doing. The next day, he disappeared and his lab was found, empty.

Loren was at least more friendly. After the krogan came looking for Barra and found him gone, I helped him clean up the destruction of his shop. He offered me a job then and I did mostly clean up and sales. My ability to bargain turned into a real asset, but it was the electronics that I really wanted to work with. Loren made a quick learner out of me, taking to rapping me on the forehead with his bony fingers when I said something technologically stupid.

He was a really good teacher, because after about 6 months, I started setting myself up as the Shadow Broker of Omega. They called me the Alpha of Omega. But unlike the real Shadow Broker, I didn't have agents—not willing ones anyway. Through a series of bugs and sensors I had my finger on the pulse of the galaxy's underground. After all, information was the only thing I had to sell at the moment. What else was I supposed to do with myself?

And that's where I was this morning. Exactly 2 years after waking up I was still in that crappy little closet of an apartment, skimming over mountains of data as I finished breakfast.

There was a decrease in traffic in the Doru district, near the water treatment facility. Archangel had paid modestly for that information about the Blue Suns tripping all the sensors down there. Now the mercenaries had been chased away and the station's water supply was safe. Good.

I had taken quite a liking to Archangel and told him so, offering greatly reduced prices for my information. In exchange, they took all the risk. Now, I didn't have to worry about another sighting of 'a little girl with black paint on her face.' I blushed at the memory. I was stupid. I had let one of Aria's bodyguards out of my line of sight and he flanked me. I shot him of course, but he got that description across his radio to Aria. Now everyone knew who Alpha was…sort of. They still hadn't caught me. I just had to keep the paint covered up.

But something else was wrong. Virtually all traffic had stopped to Gozu District. I sat up suddenly. Now? I scanned the extranet, finding exactly what I didn't want: articles about missing colonists. That could only mean one thing.

I smeared my makeup on with a quick, practiced hand, dressed (the only thing that had changed about my stolen garb was that it was newer, fit better, and had a pair of black gloves), and grabbed my backpack. I stuffed it with my extra clothes, spare credit chits, and data storage boxes, effectively emptying the room. I had to move, I thought, braiding my ponytail quickly. I sprinted out the door and toward the Kenzo District, the only route still open.

How could I have not seen it coming? The elcor bouncer had been hired at Afterlife, the quarian Kenn had just showed up 3 days ago and started that new salvage place, Archangel's team was growing more bold, and it had been 2 years and 8 days since Shepard was pronounced KIA. The plague was here.

I rapped urgently on Mardus' door. The guy had given me a cheap room for 2 years now and I at least owed him a warning. He didn't see the favor I was doing for him, though because I heard a snarl through the door. "What do you want?"

"Mardus, it's me. Open up." There was a pause before he wrenched the door open, glaring daggers at me. From his half-dressed appearance, I guessed that I'd interrupted private time with his wife. "Get dressed, grab your credit chits, and follow me."

He blinked in surprise, his angry expression faltering. "What?"

"I need you to trust me right now, no questions asked, and I need you to do it in no more than 30 seconds."

"Why?"

"We don't have much time."

He scowled again. "I guessed we needed to hurry, but why should I trust you?"

"Because if you don't, you and your wife will die." His scowl disappeared when he saw the serious look on my face. "20 seconds."

He just about met my time hack, he and his wife straightening their clothes while we walked at a purposeful but not suspicious pace. People were still using that exit…for now. I just hoped we wouldn't have to go crawling through ducts. I wasn't even sure Mardus would fit through one of those grates. In fact, I was positive he wouldn't.

"Where are we going, Casey?"

"No questions. And don't look so edgy. We can't draw attention to ourselves."

"Well, you're freaking me out." I didn't answer, just kept my eyes on the prize. We were so close. I could see the door to the Kenzo District. If it opened for us and there was no guard on the other side, then we were home free. "Hold on a second."

I whipped around to see Mardus' eyes lock on a batarian with a bad cough. Each heave of air nearly took him off of his feet. I snagged my landlord firmly by the arm. "No, Mardus. We can't stop. It's too late for him."

"He needs a hospital."

"You're going to need a morgue if you catch what he's got."

Suddenly, his eyes widened in realization and horror. "Plague."

He followed me the rest of the way out of Gozu and I sighed in relief as we rounded a corner. I turned to face them. "You and your wife are going to the famous coffee shop a few blocks away. Then, you're taking a shuttle to Tuhi for a few hours of shopping before trying to head back to Gozu."

"Trying?"

"You didn't really speak to anyone until you got to the coffee shop and you don't remember seeing anything suspicious. Here." I handed him the key to my room.

He looked down on it, still clearly trying to process what was happening. "You aren't coming back, are you?"

"If everything goes according to plan…no. Bye Mardus." I moved out after that, heading to a little café to grab a scone while I did some research. The clinic in the residential district we'd just fled was sending reports to Aria. I couldn't read them without their encryption key, but there was solid correspondence starting around 10:00 last night. They didn't have much for medical supplies from what I'd seen, though, so they would probably be shutting down soon.

I had to find Mordin. I didn't know if the mailing address on the immunization record he gave me was still operational, but a little tracing should do the trick. As long as he didn't defend himself. Loren and the extranet had taught me a lot about electronics, but Mordin had been doing this for a long time. I prepared my fake email and sent it, waiting impatiently for the system response. Bingo. There was an email sent to him yesterday that had been opened. Chances were good that he was—

I scowled and shut my omni-tool off as I realized that he was trying to use that connection to locate me. He was a damn fast bastard. But the address was legitimate. I waited as it rebooted, then made an equally legitimate message about the plague and some of its details, both from what I remembered of the game and my gleanings from my bugs. That one in Aria's loft had proven itself invaluable once again, despite the 5 weeks of planning and preparation it had taken me to plant it. Mordin would take the bait. He had to.

I hadn't detected any messages being sent to Sidonis yet, so Garrus was probably safe for now, but an extended listening to recordings from Jaroth's favorite Afterlife corner brought up a name I almost forgot about.

Zaeed.

The ruthless mercenary was an optional character, so I didn't even think about him. Being hired by the Eclipse boss, he could be instrumental for Shepard or detrimental to Garrus. My only chance would be to recommend him to the Illusive Man for his team. I'd just have to hope that I caught his attention enough to come looking to me for information. Or find Cerberus' contact on the station.

Where would Cerberus hide? Aria's court? It was dangerous, but that was where the information was. Still, Cerberus operated in teams for specific missions. If he wanted information, he could just pay for it. His employees tended to be more active. Unless he was already planning his takeover of Omega. It seemed a little soon—he had other problems at the moment—but it was possible.

I searched messages sent from upper Afterlife immediately after Aria announced the plague, but none of them were going to anyone suspicious, just to other mercenaries. Again, my sensors also had a function to read data streams in the air and could tell who sent and received them, but the messages were always encrypted—especially coming from Aria's thugs. I couldn't read them and that was annoying. I tried doing a background check on all of her bodyguards, but they seemed clean. This wasn't working.

Frustrated, I changed to my regular omni-tool and headed to work. For obvious reasons I didn't want to send my Alpha emails to it, but I did keep it with me at all times, along with my makeup.

_Relax_, I told myself. I still had 4 days until Shepard woke up and probably a few more until he got here. I could start really worrying then. For now, I had to really focus on what could make me valuable to Shepard. I didn't come all this way into the future to sit back and watch—to hope it all worked out like it did in the game. I was going to be a major player.

The shop was busy today, with people coming in to get masks and breathers tested and, occasionally, repaired. They would stand in line for an hour as our atmospheric machine did its thing. At 5 minutes per device, it was running all day. We kept having to run water over it and put a fan on it to keep it from overheating. The worst part was that there was nothing for me to do while it ran. We just stood there watching it. On the plus side, I got to listen to some of my bugs in real time.

Aria was holding court all day, voice growing more and more furious with each person she saw. Mostly, it was people begging for their loved ones trapped in the Gozu District, or residents wanting to get their things. She let one in five go in, but quickly grew frustrated and declared a final lockdown, refusing to see anyone else on the subject. From then on it was mostly mercenary gangs whining about the loss of territory.

We closed at 5:00 like usual and I went immediately to the gym before continuing to listen in. I'd been working out at Lenny's Combat Gym since I'd first started getting a paycheck. I wasn't bad, either. With my new lungs I was faster and could go longer. Not having any physical enhancements, I should have been at a disadvantage sparring, but I loved it so much that I practiced hard and got good. I was a decent shot, too, but that was nothing like the martial arts. I liked the close quarters sparring, however impractical it may have been in the days of shield generators and biotics.

Lenny was the leader and a turian biotic who was kicked out of his special forces unit for killing a fellow soldier while sparring. After that he drifted as a bounty hunter and assassin until his eyesight gave out. It didn't make him a nice coach, but he was effective. He preferred the sink or swim method. He'd show you a new move and give you 10 minutes to practice before your test.

One of the reasons I succeeded was that I had done some training with my husband, who loved martial arts too, and I knew how important muscle memory was. I would practice every technique I could remember every night in my cramped little closet while going over recordings and mulling data and Lenny could always tell the days I skipped.

Today the gym was empty. A good majority of the students here—hell, a good majority of the station—lived in the Gozu District. It was just me and Lenny who lived in the back. I stretched out and warmed up a bit before we got started on sparring.

It was a rough day to be Lenny's only student. He always got angry and anxious whenever anything happened on the station that sent people scurrying. Especially when there were no other people to train to keep his mind occupied. I walked away with at least one broken rib and an assortment of other tender areas. Luckily, he kept his first aid station well stocked. With a shot of medigel to calm the pain, I set to work on the bag and then katas.

I was exhausted by the time I left and, after a quick shower I headed back to the electronics shop. Loren was letting me sleep there while my apartment was quarantined. I curled up in the corner behind the atmosphere machine, reviewed today's arrivals and departures on the station, and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

A few days later, things had fallen into place. It was time for Shepard to wake up after 2 years and 12 days of being dead. Garrus was in his fortress with the dwindling remains of his team. He'd already wired me credits for information on Sidonis' whereabouts and I'd done just enough virus uploading into the mercs' personal electronic devices and mechs to buy him time. It wasn't much, but 1 in 3 freelancers' shields failed before they even set foot on the bridge and detailed maps of the area were mysteriously gone from omni-tools and data pads everywhere. Mordin showed up almost instantly after my message and I was on the lookout for messages sent by hidden survivors. I donated the locations to him in hopes that he might be able to help, but I doubted it. I would have loved to get a bug into his clinic, but he probably would have found it anyway. And Zaeed showed up this morning.

I monitored the situation as best as I dared at work, but it was difficult. _Come on, Shepard, we need you. The sick people need you. Garrus needs you. Wake your ass up already!_

We were finally closing up when I got the email. It was from Cerberus.

_Alpha,_

_ It is my understanding that you are employed in the information business. If that is the case, then I would like you to know that we are a wealthy group willing to pay a substantial amount of credits for information on 2 individuals. The first is Dr. Mordin Solus, a salarian who we believe is on Omega. The second goes by the name of Archangel who is an entirely unknown entity. _

_ We will pay you 2,000,000 credits for whatever information you can provide. Keep in touch._

_-Cerberus_

I sighed, slightly relieved. First things first. I knew how to be an information dealer. I couldn't let all of that go just because of who I was talking to.

_Send the money._

_-Alpha_

Again, I waited, watching the credits show up on my omni-tool's faceless account. They worked fast. That was a lot of credits. I quietly downloaded them onto a spare chit and dropped it into my pocket. Loren saw my extra serious face and moved up to close the shutters. Bless his heart. He never once asked a question about my after-hours activities.

_Cerberus,_

_ Thank you for your business. Here is what I have on the individuals you specified._

_Mordin Solus arrived 3 days ago on a ship from Illium. He is a doctor, geneticist, and former STG operative. His military assignments are well-classified, although it has been suggested that he was involved in the genophage project. Immediately after setting foot on the station, he was summoned by Aria T'Loak and announced his intention to set up a clinic in the quarantined plague zone. Attached is a picture taken shortly before he entered the quarantine zone. Mordin seems to prefer short range firearms, though it is assumed that he is comfortable with all manner of weapons or none at all. He has not been heard from since, though he sent a series of encrypted messages to an unknown recipient off world and had military-grade mechs delivered to him inside. _

_As for Archangel, I have far less information available. He is the leader of a vigilante group that started up on Omega about 6 months ago. They devote most of their resources to upsetting the local mercenary groups which include the Blue Suns, Eclipse, and the Blood Pact, but they have also been known to target the slavers and murderers who prey on the station's inhabitants. Archangel is a turian with obvious military experience and runs precise, low-risk, high-impact operations with his team. There are at least 10 members, though their exact numbers are unknown and decreasing since the group was pinned down a few hours ago by all 3 mercenary gangs previously mentioned. Another freelance mercenary, Zaeed Massani, has been hired to take him out and arrived on Omega this morning. If you would like Archangel to stay alive, I would strongly suggest offering Mr. Massani more than the 50,000 credits he has been promised by Eclipse. _

_If you have any other information requests, send them now._

_-Alpha_

I attached a still-frame of Mordin from one of my cameras and a short video clip of one of Archangel's firefights and sent the email. Taking a deep breath, I sat down on a crate and brushed my fingers through my hair.

"I'm going to take off, Casey. See you tomorrow."

I nodded to Loren before noticing that the bug in Aria's loft had stopped transmitting. It must have been discovered. Curious, I rewound the last audio details and played them back.

"_You got out of Gozu awfully conveniently, Mardus."_

"Loren, wait. Jus for a second," I begged, listening to Aria's gravelly voice. He hesitated.

"_We were just going shopping…."_

"_Bullshit, Mardus. You never leave that little shithole of yours. You were warned about the plague by one of my guys, and I want to know who."_

"_No! No, I wasn't!"_

"_Get the rag. Mardus, this rag has vomit on it from the clinic in the quarantine zone. If you don't want a slow, painful death, you'll tell me who warned you."_

"_No! It wasn't any of your guys, it was one of my tenants! Casey Reid!"_ I swore.

"_Who the hell is that?" _her batarian bodyguard growled.

"_Wait!" _Aria commanded. _"Somebody scan this place for bugs, right now!"_ There were sounds of confusion for a long moment, followed by a beep and a static sound as my listening device was found. After that, I only heard one word. _"Alpha."_

"Loren, I'm leaving. And I'm not coming back. Take this and get home, now. It should cover any damage they do to the store."

He took the credit chit I'd downloaded my Cerberus sale to while I gathered my things, staring incredulously back and forth between me and it. "Casey, who's going to destroy my store?"

He was giving me such a hurt look that it actually broke my heart. He never asked—not ever—even when I was being really suspicious. I owed him something. "Loren, I am Alpha. I know that you know, but now Aria does too. She's going to find out where I work and she's going to come looking for me. You need to get home. Now. I'm sorry." And then I ran.

I wasn't going to the gym today. I needed to gather my emergency things. And so it went. Aria's hired hands were everywhere, but they didn't know me. I just casually peeled my hidden credit chits off the undersides of coffee tables in various lounges and from between the pages of an old book in the library. Out of 7 hidden ones, 3 were still there, which was good, considering how many people on Omega made their living scavenging through the trash. Only my spare food and water stores in hidden compartments on the underside of the shuttles were untouched. Just one thing left.

My sniper rifle.

Everyone wore their armor under their casual clothes these days and everyone was armed, so my expensive medium armor that I hid beneath mine drew no more attention than the excellent pistol I'd hidden in the shell of a clunky old model and attached to my belt. The only thing that a store clerk couldn't carry openly was that sniper rifle. I'd hidden it beneath a loose panel in the counter of my favorite restaurant. Guess it was time for dinner.

On my way there, plans changed. Aria's goons had finally gotten a lead with my gym and were sprinting in that direction when a krogan drove his elbow up and out into my still healing ribs. I went headfirst over the railing and almost out into darkness. Only Lenny's hard-learned training gave me the reflexes and finger strength to snag the top of the wall as I was going over.

Now I was in a precarious position: upside down with my back against the outside of the low wall and my feet in the air. I was stuck, with my center of gravity too low to manipulate. "Hey, assholes!" I snarled at their retreating forms. But they paid me no attention. Great. I was slipping. The tops of these walls were rounded and I wasn't going to last much longer. Was this how I was going to die? Go all the way to the Mass Effect universe, only to fall to my death before I made any difference whatsoever?

"Hang in there, girly. Upsy daisy." The voice came from above somewhere and a scarred hand grabbed my boot, levering me into an upright position on solid ground. "That's better."

"Thanks." It was a good thing he turned to glare suspiciously at the krogan, because my reaction to having my life saved by Zaeed Massani would not have stayed off my face.

"What are they in such a big hurry for?" he growled, slowly turning back to face me.

"They're Aria's bodyguards. They probably think they've found Alpha again," I responded, trying to put as much contempt into my voice as possible, if only to hide my anxiety. He nodded. "Those idiots couldn't find their own noses."

"Alpha, eh? I heard about that one. Some little girl with black paint on her face playing Shadow Broker of Omega." I waited as he acted out his whole train of thought. He had a question for me. "Looks to me like you're living out of that backpack, Sweetheart. What say you to a trade? I've a pretty penny here if you can tell me how to contact this Alpha kid."

I had practiced the role of starving orphan many times while on Omega. Even here—especially here—they were 'the unseen ones.' So when I saw that chit come out, I locked my eyes onto it. After a moment, I snatched it and shoved it in my pocket. "Well, everyone knows that Sir. I'll show you." I motioned for him to follow me into Afterlife—a risky move if I've ever seen one—and strolled through the front. The place was already getting full, despite the relatively early hour, and I chose a barstool, ordering a soda. Zaeed, of course, chose something a little stronger. "See that?" I asked over the music, motioning with my eyes to the plastic thing on the bar on his other side. "On the bottom of it is Alpha's contact number. She changes it every month or so, but nobody knows exactly when. It's there for anybody, but you better be careful not to let Aria see you looking. She not fond of her."

"Thanks, kid." He nodded and held up his glass in a little salute.

Suddenly, there was the shout of a fight breaking out from behind me and the tipping of barstools. I turned just in time to see a glass heading straight for my face. I didn't quite have time to dodge it, but I took the hit on my forehead rather than my nose. The cheap, flimsy thing promptly shattered, spilling alcohol all over me. I snarled and wiped it off, but they ignored me, continuing their fight. It was only after I saw the white on my glove that I realized that I had wiped off some of my makeup while trying to dry my face. Shit.

"This just ain't your night, Sweetheart. Oi…what is that on your face?" I watched him go from a chuckle to suspicious rage in under a second and he stood.

I couldn't help it. I gave him a smirk. "Welcome to Omega, Zaeed Massani."

He dove at me, but I was fast and used to the disorienting light. I slipped off my stool, skipped through the brawlers, and slid feet first under the railing beneath the dancer's stage. His shot tore through the music and ricocheted off the floor and up past my ear. It was a close one, but I knew the area between upper and lower Afterlife like the back of my hand after all those weeks of planning my route to Aria's loft, so once I got down here I was practically untouchable.

Still. I had been seen again. That was going to make staying alive until Shepard's arrival even more difficult. This time the witness was alive and had time to describe me in detail. Life really wasn't looking up. If I didn't get recruited by the Alliance hero, then I was going to have to figure out how to get onto the Citadel without any identification. Damn it, Zaeed.

I checked my omni-tool again, but Shepard wasn't here yet. Freedom's Progress was only 10 hours gone. I would have to be patient. I half ran through the back alleys to get to the restaurant before Zaeed would have a chance to wander that way and ordered dinner to go. If the cook noticed how strangely I was acting, he didn't say anything, just handed me my burger and let me leave. He also said nothing about the rifle that appeared out of nowhere. Now I just needed a place to bed down.

My sensors registered Zaeed heading into this area, so I beat it to the Doru district. I had to climb past the guard through the ducts, but the low traffic area provided me a lot more secure hiding places. I made myself comfortable on the top of the emergency water pump which, at 15 feet tall, was well above eye level. I went over some more data before determining that the best thing I could do for now was nothing at all. So, exhausted and anxious, I fell into an uneasy sleep.


	3. Just Play it Cool

**Hey guys. I'm putting in a lot of exact dialog from the game. Let me know if it's good or if its annoying, please!**

* * *

**_Chapter 3: Just Play it Cool_**

I didn't sleep all that well, with only my bag for cushioning, but I got a few hours altogether. I woke up every now and then to monitor the situation on the station.

I had just sent Zaeed the location of his batarian bounty as a reward for not being overly descriptive with Aria's bodyguards outside of Afterlife after the incident, when flight control was sent a-twitter. I accessed their systems and finally found him. Shepard. There goes Zaeed, finally catching his batarian prisoner, as well as Fargut and Moklan, storming up to greet the vessel.

I had put sensors and cameras over every inch of this docking bay for this moment and I projected the images and sounds from my omni-tool in the privacy of the treatment facility. It was crucial that Shepard speak to Zaeed, or they were going to have a lot more trouble rescuing Garrus.

"Come on, Shepard."

"_Cut the attitude. I'm not here to cause problems for Omega."_

Good. Still paragon. Jacob and Miranda stayed silent, watching him work, and Moklan finally stepped aside. Shepard was proceeding down the hall…

"_Are you Zaeed?"_

I sighed in relief and put the camera projections away. Good, he got Zaeed. Now, I needed to make my own move. I stuck to my mikes alone as I wormed my way back through ducts and out of the Doru district.

"_And Shepard. Watch out for that Alpha character, she's a right nasty bitch. Never saw her coming."_

I scowled when I heard it. I practically handed him his bounty, what more did he expect as an apology for tricking him? Ah well, I knew Zaeed was a bastard, even just playing the games. The way he was pouting, you'd think I shot at him. Men were so sensitive….

They talked about me for a minute before heading in to see Aria. I really needed another recording device in there if I was going to stay any longer. It was just so difficult with all of the music. I couldn't hear anything over it unless the mike was really close and set up to disregard certain frequencies of sound. It was difficult with batarian and turian voices, though. Or I could try out my adhesive bug. I could just attach it to Shepard. If I could combine it with one of my mini tracking devices it would allow me to keep tabs on him. No cameras, though. Mordin fixed my lungs and even my eczema, but not my motion sickness when it came to movies and things. No way was I going down that road.

I fished around in my left pocket as best as I could in the narrow duct and pulled out my baggies. Inside, were my excruciatingly small friends. Most people didn't understand the frustrating task of assembling something smaller than the head of a pin, but I had spent hours upon hours in Loren's shop after closing. It needed a CPU, an audio receptor, a transmitter, a power source. It wasn't easy business, but I had this station wired by now. Damn, being an information broker was hard work.

I put the bag labeled 'cameras' off to the side and focused on the 'audio' and 'GPS' ones. Of course, there was no GPS here. My trackers went off of proximity to scanners, but it meant that nobody else would understand what was in the bag. Then out came the bottle of glue. This stuff was amazing, really. I wish we'd had it back in the day. Using plenty of light, I brushed the glue onto the bottom of the bug away from the audio receptor and pushed it down onto the flat top of the tracking device. This was much more visible. Twice as easy to spot but twice as useful, too.

Now, back to the Tuhi district. After cleaning up, I held the devices carefully between my left thumb and index finger and climbed out of the ventilation system. I needed to get to Afterlife before Shepard went to get Mordin or Garrus. My camera out there caught him going in, but not leaving yet. Luckily, he still had Miranda and Jacob with him, neither of whom would recognize me.

I lucked out again when he left the club and headed straight to the nearby markets for equipment. There were a decent number of people out and about yet. I could blend into them, get close while Shepard was talking with a merchant. I slipped into a corner and applied the glue to the bottom side of the tracking device, moved it carefully to my right hand, and pretended to be interested in Halot's salvaged crap.

Still. There was no opening. Every time Shepard leaned in to speak with somebody, Jacob would turn around and pull security, eyes on the crowd. I'd forgotten how difficult it was to deal with disciplined soldiers. Most of the people out here were on the shady side for the freedom from such rules. I needed a distraction. A krogan was using his credit chit on the kiosk on the other side of the market. If I was quick and discreet…

A mighty roar drew everyone's attention to the store as the krogan protested the disappearance of every credit on his chit, as opposed to the 300 he meant to spend. I moved up to where Shepard stood and gently pressed my finger to the underside of his grenade launcher mount. Jacob spotted me a moment later and appeared to object to my closeness, but I just looked around Shepard's shoulder, feigned disinterest, and turned to the kiosk a short distance away, scanning it briefly.

"_Shepard, we really should go acquire Dr. Solus as soon as possible."_ That was Miranda. Good. The device was working.

"_I know, I know. I just want to find those FBA Couplings that Ken and Gabby mentioned before I forget."_ Shepard's voice was a little fuzzy since the recorder was behind him, but I could hear him well enough. Now, I could keep tabs on Shepard at all times, no matter where I was.

With the bug planted I headed around to check the electronics store and gym. Loren looked shaky and some of the equipment was smashed behind the counter, but he didn't look hurt and I didn't see any bullet holes or anything.

At the gym, the front window was broken and Lenny was pissed, if the look of the other students was anything to go by, but he was alive and unhurt. Not that I expected anything less of my master. Aria's goons hadn't even stood a chance, I'm sure.

"_Alright, Miranda, you and Zaeed are going into the quarantine zone with me to get Dr. Solus. Sorry, Jacob, I've got to see what he can do."_

"_No worries, Commander."_

I sighed heavily. What was I supposed to do now? I had been mentioned in passing but I clearly wasn't on Shepard's radar. Not in teammate capacity, anyway. Maybe I could send him the locations of the trapped individuals that Mordin hadn't saved. Doing so for free would look a tad suspicious, but I had to secure a spot on the Normandy and I had to do it fast, without appearing too eager. I sent the 3 locations still transmitting messages to loved ones to the commander, with the added note that my bill had already been paid by one of the families.

Not sure what to do with myself, I wandered toward my old apartment, just to hear the line 'You don't have a grenade launcher, lady,' in person. I missed it. Home, where this was just a game. Cuddled up with my husband. I was surviving out here, I supposed, but this galaxy was colder and darker than it had ever been before. Here came Shepard, the character that had occupied more hours of my life than I cared to admit. And Miranda, one of my least favorite people in Mass Effect along with Zaeed, Jack, and the obvious antagonists. Wait a minute…where was Zaeed?

A horrible feeling rolled in my stomach. The last time this had happened, Aria had gotten a brief but telling description of me. I set my omni-tool to the taser function I had programmed and backed up further into the shadows.

"'Ello, Sweetheart."

I swung my omni-tool around behind me and connected with the outside of his arm. He'd had his assault rifle seated behind my head, but was unable to adjust it as his muscles all seized up. Still, he managed to fire off several rounds and alert the other 2, who came running. I fired a dampening at Miranda and pointed my pistol at Zaeed to deter Shepard.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you not to sneak up behind a girl?" I growled, heart still racing. Of all the tricky spots I'd found myself in, this was easily the worst. 3 on one with people I couldn't kill? Not to mention my research showed that Shepard was an adept. I only had my dampening against that and I could only get one person. It was either him or Miranda, not both.

"You're worse than my ex," Zaeed groaned, swearing as he rose to a knee.

"You came that close to reproducing? The horror."

"Why don't we all just calm down and put away our guns?" Shepard suggested firmly.

"I'd do what he says," Miranda told me with a glare.

I smiled humorlessly. "Why don't I follow your lead? I don't want to kill the people going after the Collectors, but I'll do what I must to prolong my life." They all exchanged uneasy glances and Shepard reluctantly holstered his weapons. I didn't put mine away, but I lowered it. "There. Isn't that better?"

"You're the girl from the markets." I smiled guiltily at the dark-haired woman, who grew angry almost immediately. "How did you know about our mission?"

"Don't pretend you don't know who I am, Miranda. I wouldn't be worth my salt if I didn't look into what motivated a dead spectre to visit Omega." She seemed to understand that I was avoiding the question, but she didn't pry.

"Why did you send me that information?" Shepard demanded.

"Because I got paid for it," I lied. "Besides, I had friends and neighbors in there until the other day. Thanks for that, by the way."

Zaeed laughed at my sarcasm. "I thought you said that Aria's men couldn't find their own noses."

I scowled. "They're idiots, but Aria is not. All the good things I had going are gone now, because you called me out."

"I also saved your life."

Shepard and Miranda looked mildly surprised but they didn't ask any questions, just waited for my response. My nostrils flared. "…Yes…you did."

"Then howsabout you quit your hiding? Let's face it, you ain't got much left here for ya, and we know you can handle yourself." I backed up suspiciously. "Whadaya say, Shepard? Want to at least give her a test run?"

The commander considered it, looking me over. "You know how to use that rifle?"

"Well enough," I admitted.

And then came the end of my excitement. "I don't like it, Shepard. We don't know anything about her." There was Miranda. Always making sense and crushing dreams.

He gave her a look, still not happy about the idea of Cerberus choosing his team, probably. "I think Zaeed is right. If she knows about the mission already and she is willing to help, then she can show us her qualifications when we go after Archangel. I think her, Jacob, and I can handle it, don't you? Especially if she knows her way around the station as well as she thinks she does."

"I do," I assured him. "And fine. Just say when and I'll come find you. I needed to get off this station anyway. And don't take your time in there. Archangel's in pretty bad shape." I backed up then, slipped around the corner, and dodged into the men's room. The Blue Suns had put in a hidden exit in here for easy maneuverability. I removed the wall panel, stepped through, and replaced it as quietly as possible, listening. As expected, Zaeed stormed in but he didn't sound surprised when he said:

"She's gone."

I tried not to get too far from Afterlife, the center of everything on Omega, but I stayed clear of the bodyguards who sprinted this way and that. I tried to eat a little and hydrate for what was to come, but I was just too nervous. I couldn't blow this. What if I got Garrus killed? Or Shepard? I sighed again. Maybe I should bed down again. I could use some rest and they would be gone for another hour at least, spreading the cure.

The stripper's quarters always had an open bed for…tours, as Aria called them. It wasn't the most hygienic choice, but if I stripped the sheets off it should be better. I nodded to myself and headed around the corner. Looked like more crawling through the ventilation system for me—it was a good thing I was so puny.

This time, though, when I pulled the grate away, I found a few rust-colored spots. Blood. Mine. From when I had first woken up. It was strange that I'd been all over Omega, but never come back here.

No. Getting sentimental was what let Zaeed sneak up on me last time. I slithered in and closed it behind me, crawling with practiced quiet up to the next exit. It was empty here, being not even dinner yet, so I slipped out and into the nearest room. I set a few sensors out in the hallway before locking the door and ripping the bedding off.

"Oh…God. This feels so good. I haven't had a bed like this in years…hundreds of years…" I moaned. "Hm…I should invest in a real apartment next time." I tried not to think about the thin military mattress that awaited on the Normandy. "Okay, how are you guys doing?"

I turned on the mike attached to Shepard and listened to the sounds of gunfire. _"There's the first fan switch!" _Miranda called.

"_Overload that pyro!"_ came his reply.

Fan switches already? Aw…my bed wasn't going to last long. Oh well, better prepare for the next mission. Shepard was going to be tiring. This wasn't a game where a little medigel fixed you up in 3 seconds flat. I had no doubt the mission would succeed, but the more pressure I could take off Shepard, the better. Besides, this was my only chance to prove myself. I spread out on the bed and set to work re-memorizing the hideout.

I was really hoping that Shepard would leave me with Garrus when he went to clean the tunnels. I was confident enough with the sniper rifle and my tech attacks, but I sucked at the tunnels in the game and I didn't see how real life would be any different. I didn't have any fully automatic or mid-range weapons and I hadn't trained my tech attacks enough to hit more than one enemy at a time.

I set aside the blueprints and focused on the cameras instead. I wasn't able to plant many of them, not with that restricted access, but it was enough to identify some of the areas of cover that Garrus had set up. I made my own 3D blueprint and placed some brightly colored characters in the best vantage points. I really wish I had better pictures…. I scowled as I watched another wave of freelancers sprint across the bridge, falling one by one. A pointless waste of life. They knew it was suicide, but being men they wouldn't sacrifice their pride once they'd agreed to take the mission. So stupid.

They all were, I realized. I was the only one who knew what was going to happen, the only one who could truly prepare myself. It wasn't fair, really. Shepard deserved to know. Of all people, he should know how it was going to end. So why me? I didn't even belong here. I didn't even have a reason to survive. Everyone else did, though. They deserved to know. If only I wasn't afraid that it would mess everything up.

Was I still just playing the game?

* * *

"_Okay, Jacob. Are you ready?"_

"_All set, Commander. We just need Alpha."_

I sent Shepard a message, telling him I'd be right there and reluctantly abandoned the bed. I checked my hallway sensors and found them clear, but when I opened the door….

I've never loaded a dampening program so fast in my life.

Aria was kneeling, examining the grate I'd come through. I'd been hurried and lazy. It wasn't like anyone had ever caught me before. I'd just figured there were duct rats here the same as on the Citadel. But she'd found a screw I hadn't twisted in and somehow she knew.

There was murder in her eyes when she turned and saw me. "Alpha." I threw the dampening before she could launch an attack with her biotics and then turned tail, right out the door into Lower Afterlife. The only people in here were her bodyguards, who milled lazily about around the bar, drinking. They all froze, like deer in the headlights until they heard Aria's furious roar. Guess that was my sign to crank up the power on my shields.

The bullets started flying immediately and I sprinted down the ramp on the left, toward the markets, but Aria dove after me, snagging my braid. I screamed in surprise and pain and sank my omni-blade into her arm. She let go and I kept running, closing the electronically activated door behind me and locking it. Crap, my shields were down and I had taken a hit on my right shoulder blade. My armor had absorbed most of it, though. And then the door blew up. I cleared out before the smoke settled, but my guess was that Aria had confiscated some sort of grenade launcher. Whatever. I just had to keep moving.

I sprinted up some steps and vaulted the counter of the used furniture store, slipping past the startled human and around another corner before Aria's guys caught sight of me. And here was my favorite restaurant, where I'd hidden my sniper rifle. The cook was standing there and smiled as I approached.

"Casey! You missed dinner—"

"Thanks, Charles!" I whispered, snagging the to-go box he offered me. "I'll transfer the credits soon!"

"There she is! Get Alpha!" I heard a krogan shout. Driving through the middle of a wedding party, I dropped into a softball slide and under the railing to the bottom of a small staircase. A second removable panel and I was in a small crawl space. Aria's men searched the area and even the restricted storage room behind the locked door, but they didn't find me. I just had to wait a while for them to leave. If Shepard didn't wait for me, I was going to kill someone.

Luckily, I managed to slip away and catch up with the Commander. He was just about to walk into Afterlife when I jogged up behind them. Jacob gave me a distrustful glare. "You're late."

"Fashionably."

Shepard looked me over and nodded. "What's that?"

I looked down and remembered my to-go box. "Oh. Dinner. Want some?"

He shook his head. "Let's head back to the Normandy and you can drop your things."

Miranda took my backpack, and I tried not to scowl. No doubt she'd be pawing through it when I left, which meant she'd have access to all of my stored data. It was encrypted with my own special key, but I had no doubt that EDI would be able to crack it before we got back.

"Ready now?" Shepard asked impatiently. I checked my thermal clips before nodding. "Good, let's get going. Aria said that the merc recruiting station was in Afterlife."

"Oh yeah, of course." I tried not to groan too loudly as I followed him. "They love me there."

"So what do you know about this Archangel guy?" he asked quietly.

I sighed and tried to turn my mind back into the information broker, Alpha. "He's a turian. Ex-military, but aren't they all? He showed up a few months ago and put together a team. They mostly go out and mess with the mercenary bands' operations—vigilantes trying to clean up the streets—but they're very organized. Despite the individual teammates' lack of training, Archangel gets them working like a special forces unit. Very precise and clean, but I told all of this to the Illusive Man."

"I was hoping you could give us a name," Shepard told me with a yawn.

"I don't know his name." It was a lie, of course. Garrus' name showed up just like everyone else's. He was no different than all of the others who assumed that the sensors that opened doors on the station were just motion activated. I had spent a long time rigging them to track implants and body structure to cross-reference with Omega's Identification System that was used to scan incoming ships.

Jacob didn't look satisfied with the answer. "And why don't I believe that?"

"There _is_ such a thing as a good surprise, Jacob."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

I hesitated. Well, I didn't say that the good surprise was for him. Oh well. I followed the 2 of them into Afterlife and tried to keep my head down until we passed through to the private room the recruiter was in. He regarded us for a moment before nodding.

"You 3 look like you could do some damage. Looking for a good fight?" I tried not to be disappointed that I missed out on the stripper joke they had for female Shepard. I didn't even remember how it went anymore.

"You could say that," Shepard told him vaguely.

"Standard fee is 500 credits. You get paid when the job's done. If you die, your friends don't collect your share. You'll need your own weapons and armor…looks like you've got that covered. And no, this does not make you a member of the Blue Suns, Eclipse, or the Blood Pack. You are a freelancer. Period." Goodness, I missed this game. You know, when it didn't come with the threat of actually getting shot. "Any questions?"

Shepard spoke with him for a bit about the mission details while I kept an eye on the mercs around us. No problems yet. It seemed only Aria was out for my head at the moment. Then Shepard cracked his knuckles intimidatingly. "Where do we go?"

"Just head over to the transport depot outside the club. One of our boys will take you from there. Send in the next one." We were walking out when that kid with the 50-credit pistol showed up. I almost forgot about him.

"Hey is this where I sign up?"

I saw Shepard stiffen. He was so young…but if he went out there, we'd have no choice but to kill him along with the rest. "You look a little young to be freelancing as a merc," he noted.

"I'm old enough. I grew up on Omega. I know how to use a gun." I scowled. It was true that Omega kids were tough, but this wasn't a back alley mugging. This was a trained sniper with an excellent perch.

"So does Archangel," Jacob shot back.

"I can take care of myself," the kid protested. "Besides, I just spent 50 credits on this pistol, and I want to use it!"

Shepard stepped forward then, closing the distance between them and glaring intensely enough to make a geth wet itself. With one hand, he pushed the kid back and with the other, he controlled the armed hand. His voice dipped low. "Get your money back."

"Hey! What're you—"

Shepard grabbed his pistol and smacked it a couple of times, breaking the heat transfer. "Trust me, kid. You'll thank me later." I sighed in relief. That was one less pointless dead body on the bridge. How could I have forgotten that part? It was one of the essential paragon decisions of this mission. But it was done with and I was glad that I got the good Shepard, even if it would make the gun ship harder to destroy.

I kept my eyes open as we proceeded back up the stairs into Omega. Aria wasn't back yet, but Lenny was sitting at the bar talking to Mardus. Damn. I turned my face away and hid behind Jacob, who smirked. "See someone you know?"

I scowled at him. He really didn't like me. I was just some scared criminal to him, and he'd killed hundreds like me. And I had liked Jacob, too. He was nice. A little judgmental, considering the team he played for, and most definitely not trusting, but he was a good guy overall. His condescension was irritating. It made me feel like the bad guy, despite my confidence in my morals. "Yeah, a smart-assed Cerberus terrorist," I growled before I could stop myself. Yeah. Good way to make friends.

"Cerberus has a shady past," he admitted, "but at least they're doing something about the disappearing colonists. What've you done, _Alpha_?"

"Can we discuss this later?" Shepard demanded. "You know, where there are fewer ears?" We shut up as the cab driver came into view. The commander took charge once again. "We're on the mission."

"I hope you're ready. Archangel's been annihilating you freelancers."

We jumped in the transport, a difficult feat for someone of my short stature, but I managed it with little more than a smirk from Jacob and made myself comfortable. Once I was sure that the driver was focused on the road, I brought up a view of the camera I had looking out over Archangel's bridge. It looked quiet for the moment, the mercs waiting for us to arrive as the last of this batch of freelancers. The Cerberus operative sitting next to me scanned it casually, trying not to draw the attention of our mercenary friend. He at least seemed to appreciate the heads up. I let him study the 3D map with the marked vantage points for a few minutes as well while I pretended to look out the window.

I turned it off, though, the second we began to slow down. Carefully, the driver pulled into a garage on another spire of Omega, setting us down and opening the door.

Salkie appeared in an instant, circling the transport to greet us. "It's about time they sent me someone who looks like they can actually fight. They tell you what we're up against?"

"The recruiter was a little vague," Shepard admitted, taking point once again.

"We wouldn't get many hires if everyone knew the truth. Archangel's holed up in a building at the end of the boulevard over there." They discussed the plan while I looked around more. I hadn't been to these parts since I 'adjusted' the sensors here. It looked pretty much the same, though the poor families that hid here were gone now, replaced by mercs awaiting their chance to go forth and die. An upsetting reality, but inescapable now. Finally, Salkie moved on and we were left alone.

"Well, we might have a way in, but getting out could be interesting," Jacob muttered quietly.

"Let's find him first, then we'll figure out how to get back."


	4. In the Cold Light of Day

_**Chapter 4: In the Cold Light of Day**_

"Target is in sight. We're a go. Check. Bravo team—go, go, go!" Jacob and I stepped aside as the other freelancers moved toward the bridge. It was about to begin. I knew that Garrus would recognize us and not kill us, but there was no way Jacob knew that. I wondered if he was nervous about it. "Archangel's got quite a surprise waiting for him," Sergeant Cathka told us with a smirk. "But that means no more waiting for me. Gotta get her back to a hundred percent before Tarek decides he needs her again." Shepard glanced at the table where the flaring tool sat, but he turned away.

Maybe I should do it. Maybe I should kill Cathka. But no. I needed Shepard's trust. I hadn't proven myself just yet. _Sorry, Garrus. Looks like we're in for the long fight._

"Doesn't look like Archangel's got much time," Jacob told us, watching the makeshift team move in.

"No sense wasting time then," I told him solemnly, drawing my pistol.

We dropped down onto the bridge as a kid fired an RPG up into the base. Garrus appeared then, taking out 2 of their guys. Shepard merely cracked his knuckles again. "Come on. We'll give these guys a surprise of our own."

I set myself into a solid stance and followed the 2 Mass Effect heroes down the bridge, waiting for them to fire first. We followed them until right before the building before opening up. I did a couple of overloads, but for the most part none of them had good enough equipment for shields worth overloading. At least it opened them up for some of Shepard's adept powers and saved our thermal clips. We went through maybe half a dozen of them before slipping up the stairs. Jacob and Shepard cleared the far room, while I covered the guy trying to open the door with my much more powerful sniper rifle. At the Commander's signal, I took him out, right behind his helmet. Idiot never looked around to see if he had backup. And he did a shit job with the door too. I had it open in seconds, bypassing the identity scan by adding myself as a new user.

"Archangel?" He motioned for us to wait a moment as he coaxed the final freelancer out of cover with the false hope of silence. And then it was over. A very weary-looking Garrus pushed himself up with his rifle, removed his helmet, and took a seat.

"Shepard," he greeted, getting comfortable. "I thought you were dead."

"Garrus!" He opened his arms in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Just keeping my skills sharp. A little target practice." In real life, the exhaustion and grief in his voice was much more obvious. It made me cringe. What if I was supposed to save his team? No. If I had saved them, Garrus wouldn't have agreed to the mission. My job was to make sure that everything turned out the best way that it could.

"You okay?"

He snapped back, then. At least a ways. "Been better, but it sure is good to see a friendly face. Killing mercs is hard work, especially on my own."

"You nailed me good a couple of times, by the way," Shepard told him, rotating his neck and trying to lighten the mood. He succeeded.

"Concussive rounds only. No harm done. Didn't want the mercs getting suspicious. Besides, you were taking your sweet time. I needed to get you moving."

I moved over to the railing to keep an eye on the bridge while they caught up a bit. Was there really nothing that I could have done about his team? Maybe he would have put one of them in charge….

"That bridge has saved my life, funneling all those witless idiots into scope. But it works both ways. They'll slaughter us if we try to get out that way."

They discussed their plan a little more until I signaled that we had more company. Garrus looked first, then Shepard as I set up a comfortable sniping position of my own. And then it began.

I threw maybe 3 overloads at them before Garrus, Shepard, and Jacob had taken out the rest of the mechs and they started sending organics. My shots were off a little bit at first—chalk it up to nervous excitement—but once I'd settled into the rhythm I stopped cursing each life I took and settled on surviving when there were so many people out to kill me. It had been particularly hard after the first one. I'd never felt so sick as I had the day after killing that krogan, when a cat nap had me reliving his brains on the elevator floor for the next month. But it was part of survival now, and I couldn't neglect to do what had to be done, just because I was squeamish.

We stayed up on the top floor until they finally overwhelmed us with numbers and spilled into the living area below. After that, we charged down the stairs and I switched back to the heavy pistol to repel their forces. Shepard and Jacob took cover behind the couches, but I stuck to the stairs where I could see better. Of course, I sacrificed my shields a bit, but I was able to finally make myself useful. Jacob looked up in surprise as I took out the salarian sneaking up on his left while he reloaded.

I smirked a little in triumph, wasting just enough time being proud of myself to let another Eclipse merc take down my shields all the way. Shepard got him before I took my revenge, making me look like an idiot. Great.

Garrus came over the shared comms then. _"Damn it. They're sending out the heavy mechs."_

"That problem should take care of itself," Shepard responded, a smile in his voice. He motioned us up to the nearest set of barricades and let me snipe anything that got past the mechs. It wasn't particularly difficult, that thing was pwning and Garrus wasn't slacking up there either. After the heavy mech went down, I finished off the last few and replaced my thermal clip.

"_Looks like that's all of them. Come find me before they regroup." _Shepard gestured to us and we jogged back around and up the stairs to where Garrus waited. Once again, I took watch over the bridge. "You're kicking ass, Shepard. They barely touched me."

Again, I waited while they talked. Was this where they hit the tunnels? I felt butterflies in my stomach. I was comfortable with this: staying in one place in cover. The constant moving, charging in toward the enemy. That was where I always got killed. Suddenly, the ground rocked beneath our feet. Damn. Time for the hard part.

"What was that?" Jacob growled, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Garrus examined his omni-tool for a moment. "Damn it. They've breached the lower level. Well, they had to use their brains eventually. You'd better get down there, Shepard. I'll keep the bridge clear."

"Let's split up, 2 and 2—keep one of my team here."

"You sure? Who knows what you'll find down there."

Shepard nodded firmly and looked to me. "Alpha, stay with Garrus. Keep him alive." I tried not to let out a breath of relief, just double-checked my sniper rifle as he and Jacob jogged back downstairs.

The turian gave me a suspicious look. "Alpha? And Cerberus? What kinds of friends is Shepard making?"

"Hey!" I protested.

"And I thought Alpha wore some kind of war paint when she ran around as the Shadow Broker."

I punched him. Just in the arm, but he looked surprised. "Not war paint. And _definitely_ not the Shadow Broker. I'm not in this for the profit. I like information. It keeps me alive—and you too, you hypocrite!" I scowled and turned my attention to the bridge. It was quiet for now, but it wouldn't stay that way for long. Just long enough for them to confirm that we'd divided our forces.

Garrus went off after a quick recovery. "I have a feeling your information got me into as many tough spots as it got me out of!"

"Are we still on this?" I demanded. I sighed and grabbed a wet wipe from the medical kit on the shelf next to me, scrubbing my makeup off as we waited. "Have all the feelings you want, Archangel. I protected you and your team…" _Or maybe just you…._

He must have noticed the guilt on my face because he grabbed the front of my shirt in a firm grip. "Did you know about the trap? About Sidonis drawing me away so that my men could get slaughtered?!"

I turned away, trying not to let him see the lie on my face. "I missed it…Mixed up in all the data…. By the time I worked out what had happened, you were already on your way back to them." He seemed to buy it, which made me feel even worse. I finished wiping my makeup off and turned back to the bridge as gunfire broke out below us. "They'll be coming soon. Get yourself ready."

I looked down my scope as the vorcha appeared, stopping to shoot at us in one long line. _Never again._ I promised, picking them off. _Never again will I sacrifice lives that I could have saved just to be sure things play out the way they did in the game. Let's face it, the game ended horribly and had a lot of tragedies. If I could change that—if I could get this galaxy through in a little better condition—then it would be worth all of the grief in the world. Damn it, why didn't I warn them? Why didn't I save them?_

Garrus took another hit to the shoulder as his shields fell and he took cover while they regenerated. "Get those shutters closed, Shepard," he growled into the comms, right before we heard one seal.

"1 down. 2 to go. Where the hell are they still getting these numbers from?"I thought back to Mordin's recruitment mission. The Blood Pack should be struggling after the staggering amount of casualties there. But they clearly weren't. They just kept coming.

The second shutter came quickly after that. "Just one more shutter. Hurry!" Garrus ordered, picking off the last of the wave. "There's not too many…yet."

But still, they were just sending out great volumes of vorcha. If they didn't get us soon, we'd regroup up here. What were they waiting for? Even if they were just supposed to be a distraction, there was no way the Blood Pack would leave the vorcha in charge of themselves. Someone had to be pulling the strings. Garm. The locked door downstairs

I turned as I heard the grinding sound, pointing to indicate to Garrus that something was up. He gestured for me to finish up on the bridge while he went to check it out. Luckily, we heard the reassuring thump of the final shutter sealing. One less thing to worry about then. "Get back here, Shepard. They're coming in through the doors."

I hummed impatiently as I waited for the last vorcha to come out of hiding. It did only after hearing a krogan snarl from the other room. I got it and sprinted out to where Garrus was, exchanging the rifle for my heavy pistol. "Get back in cover," I told him impatiently, picking off some of the vorcha so that Shepard and Jacob could focus their shotguns on the krogan. "You've taken too many hits already, let us finish them off." He hesitated, of course, but eventually he nodded and moved back into the large room we'd been in before.

It was shortly after that that I regretted sending him away, because Garm was coming. I guess I didn't give the old krogan enough credit. I figured that he would die the same way that everyone else did if given enough lead (well…not lead…but you know). I was wrong. Despite my shooting him in the face about 6 times, he still charged forward, up the stairs and right at me. The first shotgun blast took nearly all of my shields. I had to use a shield boost to survive the second.

After the second shot, he went into a blood rage and ignored his gun, seeming to think that a melee attack would be much easier. Big legs pumping, it picked me up and sprinted, obviously hoping to smash me into the wall. Seeing as how the pistol wasn't working, I turned to my trusty looted omni-blade.

It went in a lot easier than the jagged piece of metal I'd used for my first kill. I sliced it back and forth, then up and down, but he was still going when he crushed me against that wall. Was his eye regenerating around the blade?

Thoroughly creeped out, I used my other hand to shove it as deep into his skull as I could possibly manage. One thing was for sure, I wasn't getting it back. Garm roared in pain and rage before he was silenced with another blast of Shepard's shotgun.

I let out a breath of relief and accepted a dose of medigel. More broken ribs. I really should let them heal all the way.

"Only the Blue Suns left. I say we take our chances and fight our way out," Shepard suggested.

"I think you're right. Tarek's got the toughest group, but nothing we haven't faced before. Besides, he won't be expecting us to meet him head on." As soon as the words came out of his mouth, the window at the far end of the room exploded. The gunship. Shit. I gave Garrus a hard shove behind the plant box before diving for cover myself. "Damn it! I thought I took that thing out already. They're offloading troops! Watch your back Shepard!"

Right. We had to go through this first. I tried to remember how to breathe as I focused my shots. I had to stay calm. Ow! Damn. I've got to pay more attention to my shields. I winced and tried not to look at the blood oozing out of my leg. A lot of good I'd do anyone if I got myself killed.

"They're rappelling down the side wall! Ground floor!" the turian called out. I hesitated as Shepard sprinted around to the hallway. There were just too many on the ground floor. We had to take it to them.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it. Don't go so far, Shepard," I hissed under my breath, pulling out my rifle and providing cover from the top of the stairs. Garrus stayed in the room, sniping from above as well. But it wasn't enough. I had to head down to back them up. I couldn't get the angle from up here. "Sorry, Garrus." I sprinted down the stairs and dove over a couch to shoot at the batarians hiding under the stairs. 3 left. They were hiding, spraying fire as they continued to hide behind cover. Jacob had just gotten one with his pull when we heard the machine gun fire from upstairs.

"Garrus!" Shepard called, abandoning cover and sprinting up the stairs. I ground my teeth. Lord, I hoped this turned out like the game. I hoped he survived. Jacob and I finished off the remaining Blue Suns mercs before following the Commander. I tried hitting the gun ship with an overload, but it was too late. The explosive had been launched and Garrus was down.

I had to get that ship down as possible so that we could get him out of here. So I blasted it with bullets until it disappeared. I tried getting him some medigel while I waited for it to come back into sight, but I had no idea if it was helping at all. And then the gunship was at the far end. Another overload and a shield boost so that I could get in a few more rounds. Go down, damn it. Fall. I should have killed Cathka. It started shooting in my direction next—Archangel's direction. If one more of those bullets hit him, he'd be done for. So I put all of my omni-tool's power into the shield boost.

"Shepard, take out that gun ship!" I shouted, lighting it up with my last 2 thermal clips and making myself a human barricade.

"Jacob, give it all you've got!" The Commander launched a reave and Jacob's thermal ammo tore into it, but that machine gun was tearing my shield to pieces. 50%... 30%... 10%... With a final groan, the ship tilted and disappeared, shaking the ground with the force of its impact and throwing up a pillar of fire to assure us that the merc was dead. Shepard made his way over to the turian, looking down at the dark blue blood that leaked from his body. Please don't be dead. And then he gasped. "Garrus!"

Shepard knelt and immediately gave him another dose of medigel as he instinctively tightened his grip on his rifle. "He's not going to make it," Jacob whispered, inspecting the injuries on his face and neck. Only my memory of the game made me doubt the assessment. He was in such bad shape that it was hard to imagine him lasting more than another few minutes. Still….

I fetched some of the old team's laundry and pressed a few t-shirts to the wounds. Shepard added some pressure and a third dose of medigel. After that, Jacob helped me improvise a stretcher with a bed sheet and a pair of long metal pipes we wrenched out of the walls. Water leaked steadily from these, but we ignored the potential property damage in favor of working quickly and quietly. We tied the shirts in place, moved him onto the stretcher, and took off. Shepard and Jacob carried him while I cleared the way.

I knew it. Miranda had been snooping. She was careful, though, as expected. Everything was exactly as I had left it in my backpack. Almost. The powder from my makeup had a tendency to get everywhere, but the boxes were clean. Entirely clean. Necessary, since she had smeared her greasy fingers all over it.

"Alpha." I jumped violently, shoving the data boxes back in my bag. It was EDI…. I had to be careful here not to be too suspicious. "The Illusive Man would like to speak with you."

I allowed a moment's hesitation as I studied the small globe of light along the wall. "Are you the ship's VI?"

"Yes. My name is EDI."

I narrowed my eyes. "And how long did it take you to crack my encryption key?"

"Please be more specific."

I sighed. The difficulty with computers. "How long did it take you to crack the encryption key on the data storage devices in my bag?"

"I have not examined your data storage devices."

"You know, I wasn't aware that Vis were capable of lying." There was a pause as she decided her next course of action. "Does the Commander know that you are an AI?"

"Yes."

I gave her a shrug. "Fair enough, then. And the encryption?"

"23 minutes." I nodded. It was pretty good for a homemade key. Especially considering EDI's processing power. "The Illusive Man would like to speak with you in the Comm Room on Deck 2."

I tried not to look too nervous. The Illusive Man didn't like surprises. Like surprise team members. Even Tali had been thoroughly vetted before Shepard received her dossier. "Any idea what he wants to talk about?"

"He did not say." I sighed. _Of course he didn't_. "You should not keep him waiting."

"Right. I'm on my way." I locked my bag in my bunk's foot locker and returned to the elevator. Great. Only an hour on the Normandy and I'm about to get chewed out. Awesome. It was never a good sign when Cerberus' shady founder wanted a word with you.

I slipped into the elevator, trying not to look overly surprised at seeing Joker there. I loved his character, but I had to play it cool. Especially right before this little job interview. "Hey," he greeted.

"Hello." I gave him a polite little smile.

"You're Alpha, right? Joker. Helmsman."

We shook hands as the elevator began to move. "Nice to meet you. Odd nickname."

"It's a long story," he mumbled dismissively. "What about yours?"

I shrugged. "Same. We heading out already?"

"Yeah, Shepard said he had to take something to Aria and finish his shopping, but he said he'd be right back so it won't be long."

I nodded. "Any idea where we're going?"

"Not yet. The Commander will let us know when he's ready." The elevator doors opened and he waved as he limped toward the bridge.

"You okay?" I asked, knowing that he was.

"Fine, but thanks. See you around."

"I'm sure…" I mumbled to myself. This ship had seemed so big when I first saw it and more than big enough in the game, but I couldn't imagine staying in this tiny space for weeks on end. I was going to go nuts. I sighed. One problem at a time.

I worked my way to the Comm Room through the armory where Jacob hung out. He'd left with Shepard, so I knew it would be empty. I wasn't ready to deal with Mordin just yet. When I stood in front of the door, it opened and I heard EDI's voice. "Establishing connection…." The table sunk to the floor, just like I remembered from the cut scenes and I walked into the middle of it. Even the circle of orange was just like the game and I watched it trace up my body, copying me for the projection.

And there he was, the Illusive Man. He was standing, oddly enough, and smoking, which wasn't odd at all. He must have been watching me appear and, despite the fact that he wasn't really in front of me, I saw recognition in his eyes. Why would the Illusive Man recognize me? "Hello, Alpha."

"Sir," I greeted. If they had said his real name at any point in the games, I didn't remember it.

He paused a moment, studying me, then seemed to come back to himself. "I apologize for my rudeness. I just never thought I'd see that face again. You've added to your look."

My eyes narrowed. Did he mean the paint on my face? Loren was a steady, artful hand—especially for a salarian—and had drawn lines running down my chin and onto my neck. Contrary to his initial estimate of a year's worth of showers, the paint had never come off, not even fading. He'd also drawn some branching out from the bridge of my nose, over my eyebrows and up through my temple as well as short, thick ones around my jaw. But if he knew that these lines had been added, then Illusive Man must have seen me before. He must have seen me when I was still in cryo.

"You're the one that took me from Earth to Omega," I accused.

"It was nothing personal." He blew out a stream of smoke. "We had just begun an extremely important project."

He was being vague, and he knew it. But I knew the second Mass Effect game. I had been unfrozen right after Shepard had died. "So you sold me to the Blood Pack. I was one of the assets you liquidated to pay for Shepard's resurrection."

"Again, it was nothing personal. Still…I'm amazed that you were able to survive so long. You were put into cryo on May 17th, 2014, long before we had discovered the mass relays and confirmed the existence of aliens. Actually, you were put into cryo about 20 years before humanity was believed to have begun research into cryogenics. Obviously, the history books are mistaken."

"Obviously," I agreed. "But how did _you_ find me?"

He gave a smile, the kind that clearly said he enjoyed having power over the secrets. "Well, I suppose you would want to know what your body was up to for so long." I scowled deeply. He wanted to keep me hanging. "Most of your records were destroyed by the Russians after they conquered the United States. They kept your birthday, freeze day, and your condition before you went under. They even gave you a new name, you know. You seem to have become something of an icon to them. They called you Raiza, which means 'rose'."

"But you aren't going to give me those files, are you."

"No," he admitted, finally settling into his armchair. "Those medical records are still valuable to modern science. They imply that even naturally occurring diseases can infect multiple species. Speaking of which, you should see one of the doctors on board to get your immunizations updated. It's been, what, 170 years?"

"I'll do that…" I growled, crossing my arms. I didn't need this nut job telling me how to survive in this world. I'd done well enough, considering where I started. He continued to watch me, as if extremely amused by the whole situation.

"I was upset when I first heard that Shepard was bringing on a new team member, but now I'm quite glad he found you." He leaned back then and adopted a dismissive voice. "I will work on getting you an identification that will allow you onto Illium and the Citadel, should Shepard allow you shore leave at either of these destinations. I look forward to seeing how you do on this mission…Raiza…."

And then he was gone. The orange circle retreated and I moved off the table so that it could rise back into place. So it was Cerberus all along. They took me off of Earth and sold me to some krogan gang on Omega…. Anger burned like fire in my throat. I wanted to scream—to jump back onto the table and try to strangle the Illusive Man through the comm link.

But I didn't. With one smothered snarl, I punched the metal wall, the force vibrating back through my wrist and arm to sweep away the tightness in my chest. Okay, I was good. The first 2 knuckles in my left hand were broken, but I was in control once more. I survived 2 years on Omega and now I was in a position to help Shepard stop the collectors. My past would have to wait. I was helping now, and that would have to be enough.


End file.
